


Language Barrier

by missjenna



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Pidge will be using "he/him" pronouns as this is prior to them meeting the Lions, a drabble that got too long, get ready for my piss-poor attempts at spanish, there's some bad language, this is a comedy not angst for once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 03:15:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7918354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missjenna/pseuds/missjenna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Garrison requires a language credit to graduate and Pidge just can't seem to learn Spanish. When Lance is asked to help tutor, it all goes to hell from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Language Barrier

**Author's Note:**

> Please correct my Spanish. I've taken it for five years, but still tested level one for my freshman year of college. So, take that as you will. 
> 
> Also, as mentioned in the tags, this takes place prior to meeting Shiro and the lions, so Pidge is still pretending to be their brother is using he/him pronouns for this fic, thank you!

If you were to ask any of the students in the Garrison what their preferred time of day was, you would expect the answers to fall into either one of two categories, lunch or free period. Kids like Lance preferred the free period to goof off and play video games whereas students like Hunk preferred lunch for obvious reasons. But Pidge Gunderson was a category all his own.

Pidge was the outlier, the least possible outcome in a round of _Family Feud_. Pidge Gunderson’s response was never lunch or a free period. No, Pidge Gunderson preferred the final hour before mandatory lights out.

Now the Garrison took school work very seriously and due to this they were very strict when it came to incomplete homework. So every night during the workweek, the elder Garrison cadets would patrol the corridors before lights out, enforcing the lazier of students to finish the assignments they had due the next day. Lance and Hunk were always in this category. Lance was the king of procrastination and though Hunk was more organized that his accomplice, he too suffered from being easily distracted.

Pidge was different. He liked schoolwork and worked best when organized.  Because of that he tended to complete assignments the day they were assigned, which in turn left him with more free time than either of his friends, especially during that last hour.

Now usually during this time, one would usually find Pidge on the roof of the dormitory fiddling with one gadget or another or just watching the stars, but tonight was different.

After receiving his first failing grade in his academic history, Pidge realized he could no longer bullshit his way through his least favorite class. Though, if he were being honest, he didn’t seen the point in studying another language, he knew ignoring the problem could delay his graduation which was just unacceptable.

Though he enjoyed the time he spent with his friends at the Garrison, having to do an extra year alone would be intolerable.

So Pidge had swallowed his pride and done the only thing he could think of to remedy his situation: he’d asked Lance for help. And that was why at 9:59pm one Thursday evening, Pidge Gunderson found himself not in his usual spot on the roof, but stewing on his bed awaiting the new hour and him first session of tutoring.

“Lance is never going to let me live this down,” Pidge groaned as he flopped onto his bed and pulled a pillow over his face. He awaited the new hour with the excitement of a pig before slaughter.

* * *

 

Continuing his streak of lateness, Lance didn’t throw open the door until 10:05. Still this was a new record for Lance. His earliest tended to be fifteen minutes after he was supposed to arrive. Despite his loud entrance, Pidge didn’t move nor make a noise. It was probably for the better as Lance was clad in only a pair of over-sized boxer shorts and a backpack.

But with Lance being Lance, Pidge’s lack of enthusiasm didn’t deter him one bit.

 “Well, well, well,” the boy drawled, as he sauntered over to the bed and pulled the pillow from Pidge’s face, “It seems the teacher has become the student and vice versa.”

Pidge rolled his eyes as he took in the taller boy familiar shit-eating grin.

 “That would only work if you were tutoring me in a subject that I tutored you in prior,” he corrected as he adjusted his glasses, “But good use of “vice versa.” Someone’s been looking over their vocabulary sheet.”

Lance shook off the jab with ease, knowing Pidge’s irritation was more frustration with the struggle than Lance himself. Still, he felt himself falter slightly at the smaller boy’s look of pure hatred.

“Enough messing around,” he said with a tone he hoped portrayed authority, “Let’s learn some Spanish!”

Ignoring his companion’s groans, Lance shook the backpack from his shoulders and emptied its contents onto the bed between them.

After being struck by a few of the items (they distinctly felt like rocks and maybe Lego bricks?), Pidge sat up and gave Lance his full attention.

“What the…?”

He was surprised to find his bedspread coated in a bunch of miscellaneous items. There were bottle caps, plush toys, makeup, clothing items, Legos…the list went on and on…

“How is this supposed to improve my Spanish?” Pidge asked, once he’d given the items a once over. “It’s just a bunch of random junk.”

Lance gasped and dramatically pressed his hand to his chest in faux bewilderment, “Why Mr. Gunderson, how dare you! These are my teaching tools.”

“Lance, be serious,” Pidge as he pulled what look to be a pocket dictionary for English to Spanish translations from beneath his bed.

“I am being serious,” Lance said as waved his hand at Pidge’s book. “Visualizing is key. You’re only learning some basic everyday vocab, so I thought it might be helpful to bring in some items to make the connection easier.”

Defeated, Pidge placed the rejected book in his lap. “Fine. But one question…should I call you Señor Lance?”

“I mean, I’d prefer Professor, but I won’t discourage it.” Lance shrugged as he plunged an arm into the mess of items and pulled out an item at random. “ _Perfecto. Vamos a empezarnos._ ”

When Pidge gave a blank look, Lance snorted, “Forget it.” As a distraction, he held the item he’d selected to Pidge’s eye-level. At first glance, it looked to be nothing more than a little black cylinder. Upon closer inspection, Pidge realized it was a tube of lipstick.

 “Okay, repeat after me,” Lance instructed. “ _Maquillaje_.”

“Mounty-what-a?”

“ _Maquillaje_ ,” Lance repeated with a flourish that rivaled Vanna White, “It means ‘makeup.’ You try.”

“Mante-key-yah,” Pidge replied, “Mount-a-key-yah.”

Lance shook his head. When met with Pidge’s crestfallen expression, he dropped the lipstick back into the pile, “We’ll come back to that one. How about you pick one?”

“Me?”

Pidge looked over the items. It didn’t take long for something catch his eye. The plush puppy he pulled from the pile was tattered and worn. With the faded coloring and mysterious stains, Pidge surmised that it was a toy from Lance’s childhood.

“How about this one?”

“That’s a good one,” Lance nodded, “ _Perro_.”

“Pero.”

Lance grinned, “Nope. You gotta roll the rs or you’ll end up saying something else entirely.” He reached forward and took the smaller boy by the chin. “Open your mouth when you say it. Roll your tongue like me.” With that, he opened his mouth as well and demonstrated the proper tongue work to create the sound.

Once Pidge had repeated the exercise enough times to satisfy his teacher, he decided to give the word one more shot.

“Purrrro,” Pidge tried, a little forcefully, “Purrrrrrroooo.”

Lance chuckled, “Now you just sound like _un gato_ ,”

Pidge shot him a glare, clearly irritated. “Was that an insult?” he asked, hotly.

The elder boy didn’t answer. He bit his finger and tried to force back his guffaw.

Taking Lance’s lack of reply as confirmation, Pidge shot back, “W-well if I’m a gay-toe then you’re a gay-toe.”

Obviously this did little to quench Lance’s laughter.

Pidge’s face flushed red. He felt hot. Academics were supposed to be _his_ thing. Without them he was nothing. He hated how easily Lance could make him feel inferior. Lance who didn’t give a shit about schoolwork, who goofed around and skipped class. Lance who usually spent this time doing work while Pidge got to sit atop the dorm and enjoy the stars.

“ _Tu eres muy comico_ ,” Lance giggled, a hand pressed to his mouth.

That’s it. That was the last straw! He would not be made a fool in his own bedroom!

Desperately, Pidge searched his brain for any of the words he’d retained form Spanish class. They’d only been learning basics, but perhaps there was something he could fire back. His eyes roamed the items before him, as if they could give him a hint. As he shifted his position to get a better look, his hand tapped the dictionary beside him.

Of course! How could he have forgotten! A plethora of words at his fingertips!

 _If the English dictionary could have words like “nipple” and “penis,” then the Spanish one must have something equally as raunchy_ , he thought excitedly.

Quickly, he thumbed through the book. It took a moment, but he quickly found what he was looking for.

_Aha!_

With a triumphant smile, Pidge Gunderson snapped the book shut and smirked.

Lance paused, hiccuping. The sudden noise capturing his attention and Pidge’s expression of absolute glee and excitement keeping it.

“Go on,” Lance taunted, “Say it. _Hablame_.”

Pidge took a deep breath, filling his lungs and puffing out his chest.

He paused, because he knew an insult of such stature required a dramatic moment of silence…and when Lance looked as he were about to burst, he retorted confidentially…

“ _¡Cierra la cogida!_ ”

And after what felt like an eternity had passed, Lance exploded. He rolled off the bed and laughed himself silly while Pidge watched him with a look of utter disgust on his face.

The smaller threw the dictionary to the ground with a huff and another incorrect insult. And with that, Lance’s first Spanish lesson ended.


End file.
